


Maybe Send Help: Reintroducing Us

by e15



Category: Original Work
Genre: A/B/O, Age Difference, Anxiety, Communication, Doing regular things in a pretty regular way, High School, M/M, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, More tags to be added, Nesting, No Underage Sex, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pining, Scenting, Sitting Around and Looking at Decor, Slow Burn, non-creepy alphas, not great parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e15/pseuds/e15
Summary: Leo has been mated to Christopher since a freak accident nine years ago nearly killed him.  Now he's wondering whether the decade long, parent-mandated separation was going to finish the job (of killing him -not like separation from his make would, like, kill him but it does make him feel pretty angsty).Updates sometimes.  Probably will mess around with the title some more.orangsty teen angsts about his also estranged mate, estranged mate angsts back, feat. bad parenting and some sitting around
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Kudos: 9





	1. {good morning :)}

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> { } indicates text messages  
> Please do not copy/crosspost

Downstairs, glass shattered, sounding like waves crashing on a rocky shore, but Leo was busy snorting a yellow handkerchief like a deranged twelve-year-old with a can of keyboard cleaner to notice. He wasn’t a deranged twelve year old, sure, but he was pretty sure he was definitely a super deranged almost-sixteen year old.

The handkerchief barely smelt like Christopher anymore, it smelled like Leo’s mother’s laundry detergent, and pocket lint, and the mint gum he had run out of last week but Leo could still almost make out the scent of leaves and outside that never failed to calm him down.

He could make out shouting downstairs, his mother’s shrieking voice occasionally cutting above the smash of plates and roar of back-and-forth. And Leo wished he could call Christopher again and ask for another handkerchief or six but he couldn’t -wouldn’t - because it was hard enough to get his parents to agree to once-monthly swaps and he knew if he showed any more interest in Christopher, he would be forced back to no contact.

Not that realistically how parents could enforce no-contact. He was perfectly capable of operating a telephone on his own, and as much as Christopher tried to appease his parents he would never ignore a call. But if Leo ticked his parents off it wasn’t like he had anywhere to  _ go _ . Like, he knew, theoretically, that he would probably move in with Christopher at some point, but Christopher never really mentioned, like,  _ the future _ , and it wasn’t like Leo was going to bring it up on his own.

Leo rubbed the soft cloth against his face, finding a corner that was less smelled over than the rest, and sighed. He wondered if his parents would have gotten along better if they had decided to go through with the whole mating/marking thing, but it definitely hadn’t saved his mothers’ last marriage and his father didn’t seem like the type to get permanently tied down.

Leo’s stereo read 3:25 AM but it was off by at least forty five minutes in some direction and he kept on forgetting to fix it. He thought about doing it now but that would mean  _ getting up _ and dealing with the creaky floor and…

Leo tucked the handkerchief under his cheek and pulled his comforter over his head and tucked his feet under a pile of stuffed animals and tried not to think about anything. But it was still so loud, and  _ irregularly loud _ and his heart was beating like he was about to be murdered and he couldn’t sleep. So he sat there and watched as the house settled into silence while his stereo clock counted up the hours until it read 5:15 AM, which seemed like a reasonable time for a teenager to be up on a weekend, like if they had to get up early to catch a bus or something during the week and still got up at that time during the weekend. Not that Leo took a bus to school but, like, Christopher wouldn’t know that.

Leo sold out from under his bedding just long enough to snatch his phone from its charger and dive back into the warmth of his pillows. He opened his conversation with Christopher and thumbed through their old conversations. Texting with Chtopher was a relatively new thing. Leo had reached out after finding him on a gaming forum that his parents definitely didn’t bother checking his messages for and the two started exchanging awkward texts first about FPS games they liked, than other hobbies they had, and the finally like basic personal information that they hadn’t exchanged despite being like kind-of together but not really for like a decade. Like, Leo knew Christopher was older but he hadn’t known that he was like twenty nine, which was old, but younger than the creepy-old-man old his parents had always made him out to be.

He hadn’t noticed how stiff his face had been all night until he found himself giggling at a truly terrible homemade comic Christopher had sent him. It was just a poor redraw of the gamer vs mate-ers meme except the usual distracting non-gamer omega was redrawn with an approximation of Christopher’s weird cat, Sock. **{He definitely expects traditional posh omega treatment}**

Leo had spent a bit too long laughing at that but looking back at it now he feels kinda bad. Like, Christopher couldn't have a mate, like for real one, old-fashioned or otherwise, because of Leo and Leo’s parents because Christopher was too nice and he bound himself to a six-year-old with neurotic parents while he was still in college and he’s too  _ nice _ to demand, like, visitation or, like, annulation, or something. And now Christopher is tied to Leo and Leo is tied to his parents and his parents are absolutely bound to conflict and Leo thinks that Christopher hasn’t been on a date in like seven years. And Leo feels  _ bad _ . And he wants to fix it but he can’t and he feels  _ bad _ . He feels really bad.

The stereo reads 5:45 now and he’s about to try to go back to sleep like any other night but instead he find himself typing and before he fully realized what he doing he pressed the send button and packages are being sent through his router across the country to Christopher's house, to Christopher’s phone and Leo can only stare down at the screen in horror. **{good morning :)}**

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is technically omegaverse, but right now the specific mechanics aren't the main focus of the story. Obviously Leo and Christopher share a mating bite/bond but other mechanics (like Leo's scenting and nesting) will be fleshed out more in later chapters. So if you aren't super comfortable or familiar with a/b/o tropes or mechanics, the specifics will come up more in later chapters as they become more relevant for the main characters, but if you have any questions feel free to ask!  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. {my clock is wrong in the other direction}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo awkward-texts Christopher, who is chill

Five minutes later Leo can only assume that Christopher somehow lost his phone or it was silent or he didn’t notice the freaking text message. And he’s about to retreat back under his covers, maybe after burying his phone and amputating his fingers or something. Leo can feel his breathing picking up, loud enough that he’s worried that his parents will notice from the next room over when his phone beeps and Leo jumps.

**{You okay? Isn’t it like 5am there?}**

Leo can only stare down at the screen, mortified, before he scrambles for a response.

**{i'm so sorry i didn't mean to wake you up my clock is wrong in the other direction im sorry}**

**{No prob. If you’re worried about waking me up I think Mitten (sister’s cat) beat you to it}**

And he sends a photo of Socks on his chest but Leo can only look at the two heavily lashed eyes peeking out from under his cat and it takes a minute for his brain to reboot and start to think of a response but in that time another message hand already popped up.

**{Are you going to bed or waking up?}**

And Leo wants to say ‘neither’ but doesn’t want to sound angsty like he complaining about not sleeping or something because Christopher went to grad school and definitely had a bunch of sleepless nights so he just says  **{was just playing some EXI}** and then  **{i like your cat}**

And then he feels like an idiot because he knows that Christopher can see that he hasn’t been online in like two days and he hopes Christopher doesn’t look at his profile. He waits what feels like another hour but it was probably only like three minutes before Christopher says anything:  **{you free to play a couple matches now?}**

**{sure be on 10}** Leo’s response is instantaneous. Leo leaps out of bed, fishes the handkerchief out from between his pillows and is in the basement booting up the desktop in less than thirty seconds. When Leo opens the game two minutes later, a party invite from Leo is already waiting in his inbox.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> added tag for slow burn but I promise they actually meet soon


	3. {i dont want to be at home}

It’s Monday morning, which isn’t really any  _ worse _ than any other weekday morning per se, but Leo gets more than a few weird looks for smiling,  _ with teeth _ , completely unsarcastically. He honestly doesn’t really notice it until Jakob from first period history (yes, it’s as awful as it sounds) mentions that he looks cheerirer than normal (the exact cringy words he uses are: “Your mama out for the weekend? You look high as shit, Yatey.”) And even Leo can’t bring himself to scowl properly because all he can think about is Christopher’s voice through his headphones, Christophers avatar saving his own character, Christopher’s laugh when his tired brain mixes up the words ‘monkey’ and ‘bear’ and how he fell asleep immediately without even needing the hankershi for the first time in ages.

Eventually Jakob leaves him alone, and the teacher doesn’t look like he wants to teach this morning, leaving them to ‘polish’ a project that Leo finished last Friday. Christopher had told him, gently, after Leo’s brain had nearly completely shorted out (they had switched to non-competitive play after about an hour or both of their ranks would have been decimated) to put some proper pjs on, find some extra quilts, and go to bed. Leo was straight-up exhausted at that point, but that usually made him more susceptible to sitting in bed and overthinking things, especially after, like, social interaction but after talking to Christopher (looking back he didn’t even use any commanding alpha-dude inflection to suggest he go to bed), he had fallen asleep as soon as he crawled into bed. The blessèd  _ fourteen hours _ of sleep that followed left him feeling straight-up amazing so by first period Monday morning Leo had already been up for five hours and was feeling  _ great _ .

Well, mostly great. Leo probably said some stuff he shouldn’t have, complaining about his mom or whatever and Christopher had asked an “Is everything okay at home?” in, like, the nicest, most sincere way possible and Leo felt bad about burdening a literal adult with his teenager problems, but Leo still mentioned how much his mom hated the handkerchief thing and how she broke like all their dinnerware last night, which probably had nothing to do with it but made it hard to sleep and Christopher didn’t make, like, condescending noises, which would have been infuriating, but he offered to be like available to call to like talk or play video games if it happened again; like he said ‘do not hesitate to call or text anytime,’ but like  _ meant it _ , not like Leo would ever want to bug him like that. Which seems like such a Chrstopher thing to do because he’s like the sweetest nicest person ever and Leo wants him to be happy because he’s like a golden specimen of a homosapien but for now Leo’s stuck in a dusty history classroom and can only hope that calling Christopher somehow makes him feel better too.

* * *

Shit gets bad when he gets home. He left the handkerchief from Christopher by the computer downstairs; his mom found it while cleaning up. When he gets home she has it pinched between kitchen forceps like it was some sort of chemical hazard. Leo wishes he was confused as to why she was so angry, it's not like she didn’t know they had been doing scent exchanges for years, even crotchety Dr. Coley agreed that it would prevent him falling into a separation stress heat before he could start taking stronger suppressants. But she was furious and there was yelling and there were broken glasses, and Leo’s father wasn’t home, so there were no distractions. Leo’s mom cried and yelled and stomped and it was just this storm of crashing, angry noise. And she said Leo couldn’t close his bedroom door anymore. So after she had cried herself out and Leo was behind a bookcase in his room, waiting for the slam of her bedroom door, the final clap of thunder for this particular squall and crept downstairs, he scapered downstairs, quiet footfalls in time with his trembling heartbeat on the carpeted stairs, until he found when the handkerchief, now twisted badly but untorn, laying crumpled on the floor. He shoved it into his waistband and let up the steps, positioning his door half open. He spent the rest of the evening in his closet, where he shut the door tightly, wishing he had remembered his phone, wanting to talk to Christopher but also not wanting to talk to anyone, ever. And he is just sitting there wide-eyed, trembling and very, very cold.

It’s full dark when Leo untwists himself from his position in his closet, he nearly trips over his backpack on his way to his dresser, who knows when he had taken that off, and it takes him an uncomfortable few minutes before finding his phone where it had slipped across his carpet.

He’s pretty sure his dad came home a while ago, and his mom is probably asleep, but his hands are still shaking a little when he sits on the far end of his bed and types out a message:  **{i dont want to be at home}**

And before he realizes it, the message has been sent, and freaking out over bugging Christopher almost makes him forget about the fact that he doesn’t want it open but he’s too afraid to close his door.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't moving quite as quickly as I had originally envisioned, but I think Leo especially needs a bit more time to grow up and become independent. Let me know if you see any errors or anything and thinks for reading!


	4. Drowning Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher often felt like he was drowning, but he didn’t dwell on it (often).
> 
> Christopher dwells on thoughts of Leo, takes place around the same time as {good morning :)}

Christopher often felt like he was drowning, but he didn’t dwell on it. He biked to work, greeted his coworkers, laughed with his pack like any normal person would, could, ignoring a peculiar pinching in his chest that had nothing to do with his asthma.

But sometimes on clear nights like these, when his legs were tangled up in sweat-dampened sheets, usually in his too-wide bed back in Manhattan, it became impossible to deny that he was completely submerged under an ocean of.. _ something _ , many things probably, and with each thick inhale he approached some undeniable expiration.

On particularly dark nights he reached up into the inundated atmosphere above him, watching his fingers creating ripples through the foggy dark that surrounded him, and Christopher tried to see what the deep, dark ocean was made of.

Tonight he could almost made out figures, empty silhouettes in the pitch darkness: his parents with limbs flailing in a choreographed cheer, his brother, impossibly large, hunched over a project Chistopher could not see, his pack looking up at him as if he had something important, something necessary to direct,  _ Leo. _

Christopher squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling sharply, feeling the weight reach his lungs and sit inside him for a minute before hissing the air out between his teeth. But when he opened his eyes, the heaviness stayed pinning his chest to the sweaty mattress and silhouette Leo floated above him, swaying six inches above his clenched fists.

He thought getting to know him would help, giving a shape to the dark silhouette shape of  _ mate _ that had swum around his mind for eight years. He thought that by turning the idea of  _ mate _ into a human he would be able to distance, detach, somehow  _ direct _ his mind, control himself, his stupid alpha urges.

He knew, rationally, that Leo was basically a  _ child _ ; he had ultimately no choice in becoming mated to him, in bening mated  _ at all _ and it was his decision whether or not to initiate any sort or relationship. His mating had been almost become an easier reality in his mid twenties, after seeing the results of impulsive and unhappy matings firsthand, and for some reason he though by putting a face on the idea of mate he could think more rationally, not stopping to reach out to a real stranger with a real face and real faults.

He had been floored when Leo reached out through an EXO community chat --from all of Christoper’s previous experiences related to his mate -- the stiff interactions with his parents, the nearly clinically swapping of scenting squares, the complete lack of actual contact-- he assumed that Leo  _ hated _ him. It could not have been easy mated in  _ grade school _ , being forced to present so young, but there he was, willing to talk, share his social media and photos, team up for evenings spent chatting about everything and nothing, drunk on sleep deprivation, giggling as their game got sloppier, until one night Christopher found himself staring at his monitor realizing that they hadn’t played a game in nearly two hours, time which they had just spent  _ talking _ .

After that night he could nearly see Leo’s face in his shaded apparition, and the pressure of the ocean that surrounded him felt a bit lighter.

Christopher tried to be more careful after that night. He knew he had to avoid getting too attached to the kid, even if Leo didn’t talk like one, didn’t act like one. Leo was for some else, for Leo himself maybe; Christopher had no proper claim on him, no right to share his future. Christopher ought to be a temporary fixture, distant, detached,  _ away _ so Leo could develop like a proper teenager until he was old enough to think about his future seriously. So Christopher had planned to stay distant, and propritious, and celibate until Leo inevitbalty asked to try and annul their connection.

But it was  _ Leo _ who had initiated contact, and Christopher could not do anything to push Leo  _ away _ and now Christopher was a more apparent fixture in Leo’s life and Leo was  _ certainly _ a more aprant figure in Christopher’s life. And if that meant that this ocean was a bit more crowded, a bit more heavy, than Christopher would deal like it, like he always dealt with it because it was  _ temporary _ Christopher was  _ temporary _ and he was already drowning so what was a bit more water?

His heart leapt as his phone chimed a pitch reserved just for Leo. Before he was aware of it his phone was in his hand, open to their messages, needing to be  _ there _ for Leo. He had written about six responses in his head before settling on one that seemed the least clingy, and he wanted -- _ needed-- _ to hear Leo talk, needed to hear him be okay.

It was after Christopher had gently pushed Leo to go to bed and logged off, not even feeling any urge to command him, that he realized that he wasn’t short of breath because this thing...relationship was not a mate  _ thing _ . It was most definitely a  _ Leo _ thing. And Christopher was going to make sure he was okay even if Christopher really probably was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally was going to keep everything Leo POV, but I was finding it hard to connect with Christopher, especially considering that the the characters don't know each other very well at this point. Christopher is much less together, at least internally, than I expected he would be.


	5. {can we videocall}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher and Leo text some. Some other stuff also happens.

Leo guesses that if one thing came out of the handkerchief situation, it was that he texts a lot more with Christopher. Just about random stuff and Leo was awkward at first because he didn’t really do much besides go to high school and do high school stuff while Christopher was having some sort of fabulous Paris week at his sister's, but Christopher still remembered to ask about his Lit presentation ( **{Did anyone reflect on the implication Orlando’s wife being nomadic/transitive in relation to your theory reading?}** ,  **{um i think u overestimate hs-ers, most were asleep but did see jakob pay guy 5$ to do his math hw}** ) and he didn’t laugh when Leo  _ bombed _ (in a bad way) a chem quiz ( **{In all honesty, Leo, 95% of people I went to school with still carry around at least two periodic tables, rendering the questions at issue irrelevant}** ,  **{do u carry periodic tables?}** ,  **{do temporary tattoos count?}** , **{omg only if u send pics, nerd!}** ). 

Leo asks about Christopher’s (way more interesting life) a lot more too. He talks a lot about his sister who is doing an exchange program (studying something complicated-sounding) who he  _ adores _ even if she doesn’t have a cat. He texts pictures of them having a picnic somewhere with a lot of fountains and pigeons. In one of them Christopher is laughing as his sister defends her book from some particularly mean-looking pigeons and Leo definitely does not download it so he can study how Christopher’s eyes crinkle at the corners. Maybe because they’re texting it feels less weird sharing, like, stranger-danger information, like they’re actual real-life friends instead of like gamer buddies. But of course they’re really neither of those things because they’re still, like,  _ mates _ , but maybe they still are those things and also mates, Leo tries not to think about it too much.

Except for when he does. Like when he’s in the back row of Lit, half-listening to some truly misguided presentation about class stereotypes in Orlando, and half-watching his phone

Leo wasn’t sure when Christopeher promised to text him as soon as he got home. Like, that would have been really weird a week ago but it had just slipped out ( **{have a good flight! Txt me when u get home ;)}** with a  _ winky face _ !) but Christopher didn't miss a beat in responding ( **{Definitely! Also, I downloaded the new Mistland book you recommended (but i probably won’t finish, this thing is massive). See you when I get home! ;)}** with  _ another _ winky face!). And Leo had such a wave of euphoria crash over him followed by this rush of emptiness that he forgot to breathe for a couple seconds because he realized that he wouldn’t  _ see _ Christopher when he got home because he lives an hour and a half away and Christopher would definitely not be allowed to some out to see him in person. But just  _ home _ was different for Christopher than for Leo and that just felt so  _ wrong _ .

Anyways Leo’s still in Lit (yes someone just said that Orlando’s disinterest in side-tables reflected a rejection of working class people because capitalism?) and still staring at his phone (the airline website says arrival isn’t for another five hours and twelve-eleven minutes) and still thinking about Christopher said (see you at  _ home _ ).

Leo gets a  **{landed, still taxiing}** text after dinner with a picture of the tarmac and he jumps to respond typing in a smiley face and only hesitating like two seconds before sending it. It’s less than two seconds when he gets a smiley face back. He’s trying to think of something encouraging to say when he hears his bedroom door creak open.

Keith wasn’t technically his dad but he and his mom had been together since Leo was little. Leo had never really called him anything but Keith and Keith and never really acknowledged him in any meaningful way. It was fine, he was his mother's wife, not Leo’s. But here he was looking awkward in Leo’s doorway.

“Um, hi Keith.”

“Look about the  _ incident _ the other day.” Leo is unsurprised that Keith knows about the handkerchief incident, his mom probably yelled at Keith about it later.

“Yeah, I won’t leave it downstairs next time.” Leo is still on his stomach in a pile of stuffed animals and he doesn’t know if it’s more awkward to crawl his way out or just stay lying there

“You know what your mother is like.” Leo decides to stay submerged.  
“Um, yeah?”   
“Can you just try not to do anything to _antagonize_ her.” 

Leo doesn’t know if Keith expects him to  _ say _ anything or- “She gets upset by this whole, you know…” Keith looks so awkward “Omega?” Leo supplies “-thing, yes. So if you could just try not to do anything to tick her off, just…”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Leo wishes that he could just submerge himself in his pillows rather than continue this conversation.

“Yeah, um, we’re going out tonight, yeah.” Keith says before he shuffles out, not shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah,” Leo replies but he’s already digging out his phone from the bedding.

Exactly one hour and thirty-seven minutes of mindless scrolling later, Leo’s phone chimes a text from Christopher.  **{Back home with my darling Sock}** and there's a video of an apathetic pile of grey fluff. Leo can make out Christopher’s voice in the background (“Sock, my darling, did you miss me as much as I missed you? Oh, don’t be mad, come back!”). Leo smiles into a stuffed bunny,  **{she’s def mad}** he shoots off. He doesn’t hear back for a couple min, Christopher must be trying to make up with his cat.

**{sorry did I wake you?}** Christopher says.

**{yr good couldnt sleep anyways}** There's a pause and Leo’s almost worried Christopher’s uncomfortable that he’s complaining or something (not like he hasn’t done a ton of complaining in the last week and a half) and he almost starts to send some sort of semi-apology.

But then Christopher sends an  **{Is everything okay there?}** . And like,  _ yeah _ , everythings technically, like, okay but Leo’s mom’s husband just came in and told him to be less omega because his mother found it upsetting and like what was he supposed to do he was already on two daily suppressants and a monthly injection its not like he could, like, change his brain wiring or whatever or just like undergo sex reassigment surgery. Leo sighs into his sheets and types out a message. He hesitates for the first time in a while before sending it.  **{can we videocall}**

His phone starts ringing nearly immediately.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all are enjoying the beginning of fall. I accidentally set my fall semester schedule to hardcore mode, but I guess that means more procrastination updates so that's good?  
> This chapter was outlined (yes there is an outline) to be much faster but it felt more natural to show some normal interaction between the two instead of forcing major relationship developments (but we're getting there). Also, this month I think I wrote more texts for this chapter than I have for real life.  
> Anyways hope you enjoy the chapter and leave a comment if you would like, I would appreciate it.


	6. {I’d like to talk to them}

Fuck.  _ Fuck _ . HIs phone is ringing, and now it’s connecting because Leo accepted the call -when did Leo accept the call? Shit. Fuck. and before Leo can even address the fact that he’s not wearing any  _ pants, fuck _ , the call connects and theres Christopher or at least some smudgy videochat version of him on Leo’s phone and  _ what did he do oh my god  _ and before he can somehow pretend to accidentally hang up Christopher’s voice comes through the speaker.

“Ah, hello, Leo.” And Leo gapes at him for, like, multiple seconds because the picture is clearer and he can see how Christpher’s face moves and his eyes are so blue and Leo can see how the pupil shrinks when Christopher turns a lamp on. He’ s sitting on a couch, probably in his apartment, obviously in his apartment and the wall behind him is a really smooth navy color, and it's inside Christopher’s apartment -his  _ home _ where he lives and where Leo would like to- “Hey…” he squeaks out, surritipisouly propping himself further on his elbows, because fuck there are definaly stuffies in the shot. Christopher gives a sort of lopsided smile and his eyes crinkle a bit at the edges; fuck he can definately probably see the stuffies.

“Hi... I’m way off my regular sleep schedule” he says and Leo squeaks out some sort of affirmative merp. Is his face frozen? It feels like his face is frozen. “Sock will definitely help me get back on track thankfully, the little alarm cat. She tends to wake me no later than seven am for breakfast. Probably be earlier tomorrow, though, she’s not happy I left her.”

And this helps Leo’s face unfreeze because he knows Sock, not, like  _ knows _ Sock, but talking about the cat, like that’s normal, like, safe. Leo’s not going to screw anything up. “You’re going to be apologising for a while, leaving her all alone like that with no cuddles.”

And  _ fuck _ he word vomit-did bad. Shit,  _ cuddles? _ I mean the’ve- “Leo” Christopher cuts into his thoughts, “I’m really glad to be able to see your face. It’s different seeing you live. Feels closer.”

Leo tries to inconspicuously angle his phone between mountains of stuffed animals so it’s not sitting directly under his nose, because as far as first -second-kind of  _ reintroductions _ go, Leo lying in bed looking like the bedding aisle of a department store attacked is not, like, super ideal.

And like the last time they saw each other in person Leo was like elementary school and also like  _ dying _ , literally. But Christopher instead says “I like your quilt.” and like Leo feels his shoulders drop from behind his ears, because of course Christopher wouldn’t be weird about his over-abundance of bedding and, like, stuffies. “Yeah,” he replies with a kind of half-laugh thing. “I was wondering if you even had a face at this point.”  _ Nope-  _ “My sister was insistent that I properly document her very responsible and respectable lifestyle.” Christopher says, like Leo isn’t being a spaz, which, okay Leo is kind of always a spaz, but he snorts like one anyways because from what he’s heard from Christopher, his sister doesn’t seem like the most...straightlaced person.

“Thought so. Somehow, I, y’know, can’t really see you initiating a social media storm.” 

“Yes, well, now that I have someone looking out for them it’s a little easier.”

“Well, someone really ought to admire your face, you dork. It’s hard enough when most of your social media updates involve pictures of your lab’s stairwell mold.”

“Thank you for admiring my face...I think yours is really nice too, objectively. Well, with bias, I suppose, I really like talking to you and...you”

And Leo forgets about the camera long enough to feel his blush stain his face pink because when Christopher says stuff like this -stupidly sweet but somehow also stupidly sincenre- Leo can, like, pretend to be like, cool, or something, but now Christopher can definitely see his face (which he  _ appreciates _ ) flush and his mouth do something stupid and grin-y, and trying to tone it down has the opposite effect and Leo is now, like,  _ on fire send help _ and he can hear Chrisopher’s smile as he burries his face into a quilted pillow. “Yeah?” he squeaks.

“Yeah,” Christopher says, softer. Leo peeks back up at his phone and he can see Christopher there looking...soft and Leo sighs, “I’m glad you called.”

“I am available anytime for you.” Christopher shits the camera closer, looking sternly into the camera before averting his gaze again. “Except for maybe if I’m in the lab or something. I’m keeping my phone charged more now, in case…” Christopher blinks slowly and sets his phone down in front of him so he can reach over and scoop up Sock.

“Thanks,” Leo mutters into his pillow, grabbing for a teddy bear that he had been surreptitiously edging out of the shot. Because Christopher always seemed to be ready for a text or call or unexpected video chat, but like, to know that it was, like, for him, and not, like unwelcome, made Leo feel kind of fluttery and warm, and he was definitely blushing again. 

In a second, a car door slamming the street below had him twisting into a seated position before he realized that it was just a neighbor. He tried to laugh at himself, all tangled in the now very obvious excess number of quilts, painfully of the camera still propped up among the pillows, but it came out wrong. “Leo?” a quiet --hesitant-- voice from the phone. Leo opened his mouth, about to explain he was fine, just like, startled or whatever, but instead he hears himself say “My mom’s upset I’m acting omega.” Leo’s head snaps toward the screen and there's Christopher petting Sock in Christopher’s apartment and Christopher’s got a little frown on his face, and like that can’t be good, but Leo can’t quite look away.

And his mouth situation seems to be completely out of his control at this point as well because he can’t stop talking. “Like, her whole family is beta, so like, I get it, but I have trouble sometimes, like acting normal, and not bugging her, like, with weird habits, or something. And Keith is mad sometimes because like she gets mad because of me and she’s-I’m, I don’t know.” 

Leo can’t look at whatever Christopher’s face is doing anymore but he makes this weird soft sniffly-growly noise that makes Leo feel a bit better. “You-you don’t need to...apologize, for being born the way you are, Leo. Being omega part of you but not all of you, and I must sound like some sort of pamphlet. Just...I know that it's difficult for your family, who have hardly any experience with omegas of any sort, much less an omega teenager, but things like scenting and nesting, even...that’s just part of staying healthy. Balanced. Safe...” Leo must have done something weird with his face because Christopher sighs. “Look, I am aware that I am largely-if not completely- responsible for you presenting so early. Lecturing you on being balanced...you were not able to consent to that and I apologise-” 

“You can’t  _ say _ that. I would have  _ died _ if you hadn’t been there, hadn’t forced my presentation, I would have bled out on the street and become some sort of fatal traffic accident statistic, you literally  _ saved my life _ \--I would consent to that like a bajillion times. And, like, even if I hadn’t been dying, so much, and you like, like under different circumstances, or something I still would have said yes because I might be weird but like I’m weird and know that you’re out there and are willing to be bound to me, even if I can’t act normal or, like, be not like obnoxious.” Leo’s brain finally takes a moment to completely short out for a few long instants before he dies of literal embarrassment, He turns away from the camera and dives under some blankets, feeling a couple of stuffed animals shift and fall onto his back. Which is probably not the best way to seem grown up and rational or whatever.

“Leo,  _ Leo _ , look at me.” Leo crawls back up to his phone at Christopher’s quietly insistent voice. “Leo, is everything going to be okay at home, when your parents come back?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, it's fine. But, like, I’m just  _ so tired _ .” Leo lets his head flop to the side and shifts the phone so he can see better.

“I know, Leo. It’s going to get better, I promise. I can...get you in contact with a friend of mine, an omega, if you want to talk. But know that I went through, not the same, but I’m alpha and I’m your...yours, and I’ll do...so just...ask, if you need, want to. Yeah?”

“Yeah” Leo sighed. “Um,”

“Yeah...Leo.”

“Can you just stay on the line for a bit, sorry, I’m just  _ tired _ , with you. Not-ug” Leo can feel his eyelids drooping but he also wants to kick himself.

“Long as you need me. Sleep, Leo” Christopher says, and Leo thinks they must be too tired to recognize the command in his voice for what it is.

“Love you,” Leo mumbles

A pause. “Love you too,”

And some part of Leo must have acknowledged the command or maybe it was just talking but, Leo sleeps.

In the morning there's two messages in his inbox, a picture of Sock draped over Christopher’s laptop from some time after Leo fell asleep and an offer of a meeting with one of Christopher’s omega friends he trusted, only if Leo wanted it.

**{I’d like to talk to them}** Leo responded without hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> As always comments are always appreciated, feel free to point out errors or just...comment? No obligations though, hope you like the story so far.
> 
> I'd like to learn a bit more about Christopher before can really decide what I want their relationship if going to be like. The two have such different backgrounds, and I'd like to give them a bit more common ground as they get to know each other. Writing Leo is challengingly fun, balancing his maturity, his youth, his spazziness, his omega tendencies, and the mess of conflicting expectations put upon him. I'd really like to delve more into how his omega tendencies influence his personality and self-image.
> 
> See you in the next chapter :)  
> (and for those who can, vote! There are several websites for researching down-ballot questions and local govt candidates)


	7. Flickering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christopher has some beverages and looks at candles.

Christopher, for the first time in years, keeps his phone charged and on his body at nearly all times. He found a charger that fits on his nightstand and...Christopher’s worried he made Leo uncomfortable. He sent Leo the number of an omega in the pack that he was not-quite part of and doesn’t hear much after that. He wondered if Leo reached out. Wonders if his parents would interfere. Wonders if his parents look into his messages, whether they can. And that freaked him out more because Leo did not seem okay and Christopher is kind of confused at how worried he is. Worrying about other people is...different. He could objectively express concern after evaluating else’s hardship, which was fine. Nobody expected him to provide a shoulder to cry on, but with Leo…

By Wednesday he was checking his phone every couple of minutes expecting to hear...something, once leaving an undergrad to supervise a reaction while he stepped out to refresh his inbox.

By Friday what was usually a calm apathy for those reachable only by phone had dissolved into a feeling of vertigo. After an incident last year with his not-packmate, Arslan made a habit of coming over once a week. Usually they had tea and Arslan brought cookies, which usually involved a measure of small talk. And a measure of big talk too: neither had much patience for social meandering. 

Today, as per usual, Arslan did most of the talking, explaining a side project that he was hoping to get funding for, something involving viruses and overly large biological compounds. Usually Christipher would try to be a bit more involved, talking to Arslan was easier than talking with most anyone else. But today he stared into the candle he had lit on the table. And all he could think about was a boy who lived miles away who needed to be  _ safe _ and the way his apartment still smelled so sterile and dark.

Arslan had been around long enough that he was used to Christopher’s kind of nonsense. If he didn’t want to deal with an occasionally stormy Christopher, he would have left long ago. Today he left with a “You’ll come by Wednesday and help cook.” And Christopher snarled, a low savage sort of thing, which surprised the both of them and Arslan kind of chuckled and asked again with something that wasn’t quite a smirk: “would you come, alpha, dear?” Christopher kind of sniffed, which Arslan understood to be confirmation, or at least a lack of dissent and Chrisotopher was alone again and absolutely humiliated but the apartment was still bright enough for him to get to bed.

But it wasn’t occasional anymore, the storminess. These days, Christopher seemed always to be stomy, always heavy and wet, weighed down by pouring water, cold and dark and…

Wednesday came. Without word from Leo. Christopher went to one of the small apartments where his not-pack lived. He had barely a second to hesitate and consider going back to his own quiet apartment before Bay opened the door before Christopher even had the chance to knock; the kid had always had an amazing nose, especially considering he was beta. Christopher wanted to check his phone again, to text Leo, but he felt too heavy, and that wasn't something he needed to share with his not-pack.

“Christopher! Come in, my brother bought stuff for some sort of vegetable thing, but he won’t be back until later. I’ve got work to do but please keep Arslan from burning down the kitchen. Thanks!” He scampered off before waiting for a reply. This was okay. In one of the smaller living rooms, with Arslan’s soft red couch and a flickering candle on a warm brown sideboard. The apartment’s heat turned on with a groan. Christopher tried to tune out the noise and watched as the flame shivered in response to the shifted current.

“Christopher,” Arslan called from the kitchen.

Christopher walked over to the kitchen. It wasn’t the largest out of the four ‘pack’ apartments but the number of expensive safety precautions -convection stoves, indicator lights- in this one made it particularly notable.

Christopher helped make the food and managed not to wince at Bay’s loud exclamations over the edibility of the food when he came to steal a handful of fritters.

Christopher found himself once again across the coffee table from Arslan, watching the candle in the corner and running his fingers over the soft fabric of the sofa.

“You’ve been more quiet than usual.” Arslan said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Yes,” Christopher replied. Because it was objectively true.

“Are you thinking about anything in particular?”

Christopher sighed. His spine stiffened as a very low growl scratched out of his chest.

“Okay. You know we are here for you. Pack.”  
“Not part of your pack. Not-pack.” Christopher said lowly.

“I respect you like pack. We protect each other like pack. Even if you are waiting for your mate, we are here for you as pack. Look, we-I’m concerned for you, Christopher. You aren’t around as often. You seem irritable, and upset, it’s just not like- I haven’t seen you like this since you were first separated from…”

Christopher swallowed and continued ot stare at the cande.

“Anyways. How are things? You still playing online with Leo?”

“Texting now, more.”

“You’ve had your phone on you this week.”

“Yes,”

“How old is he now? Seventeen?”

“Be sixteen in June.”

“Is he looking at schools?”

“Don’t know.” Christopher has asked and it caused such a panicked tirade from Leo that he hadn’t pressed again. But now Chrisitpher had to swallow down the urge to press back against Arslan, adjusting his glass in front of himself. “He-I- We called. Last weekend.”

“That’s a first.” Arslan took a long sip from the glass in front of him, no longer looking at Christopher.  
“He doesn’t seem so...okay. At home. Difficult...mad.”

“But you were expecting this, no? As he got older, hit puberty, he’d exhibit more omega behaviors, you’d likely pick up more alpha, hm, instincts.”   
Christopher nearly coughed at the mention of ‘alpha instincts,’ something he hadn’t talked about since he was an undergrad. He took a sip, composing himself. “There seems to be conflict regarding his parents.”

“Hm,”

“Yes,” Chrsitopher released himself back into the sofa cushions. “I...I want to be there for him, but better. I want to be better.”

“Better how?” Set his glass down, giving Chrsitopher a moment to study him before going back to stare at his glass.

“You know,” Christopher glanced up to see Arslan’s quirked eyebrow. “Less...heavy. Dark. Just sometimes everything is so...much.”

“I’m glad for you then. I’ve been worried.”

The heat shut back off with another clang and the apartment was suddenly very quiet. The candle was still.

Arslan cleared his throat. “Basil should be over later, if you want to talk to them.”

“Yeah...think I’ll do that.”

The two settled down into companionable silence, half watching the silent tv in the corner. Basil came by about an hour later and lit another candle while Bay made up proper plates for them and their other brothers in the kitchen. They spent the rest of the evening chatting quietly and for once Christpher didn’t feel too crowded.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again and thinks for reading!  
> I've been sitting on a nearly finished copy of this chapter for nearly a week and am not entirely sure how I feel about it. Having trouble making things seem interesting from the point of view of a character who seems to think hardly anything is interesting. I'm still excited to introduce more characters, but next update I'm going to try and create some promises and start pushing things in productive directions.  
> Writing this seems to occupy some odd middle ground between productivity and procrastination (productive procrastination?).  
> Anyways, feel free to comment commentary, critique, or say hello, say nothing, etc..
> 
> Thanks again for reading and I hope you have a nice weekend!
> 
> Note: Very minor edits (including chapter title) made 23 Nov.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter on its way!


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